


all apologies

by angelofthelord



Category: American Horror Story
Genre: Angst, Cutting, Depression, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 23:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelofthelord/pseuds/angelofthelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'maybe in a perfect world, she’d still be there.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	all apologies

**Author's Note:**

> for makayla. please enjoy!

maybe in a perfect world, she’d still be there. she’d be brushing through the tangles in her blonde hair caused by him running his fingers through it too roughly. she’d sleep on her stomach in the bed she’d come to share with him in the weeks before she left. she’d play board games and smile when she won. she’d run the razor across her skin, dashing to him afterward, screaming and crying because she was scared she would do it the way he told her too that one day. maybe if she were still there, she’d sing along to the nirvana song he’d introduced her to in the shower when she washed away the blood stained on her skin, brown and sticky.

‘what else should i be? all apologies. what else can i say? everyone is gay.’

but she was gone now. violet, the girl he’d trusted, the girl he fell in love with so quickly and so deeply. she didn’t trust him anymore. she didn’t like him anymore. he would have done anything to take back his mistakes, each and every one of them, even though he knew it wouldn’t help anything. he was a psychopath and even though he didn’t like to admit it to himself, he knew it. he’d fuck up again. he always did.

-

still, he couldn’t help lying awake in the basement at night, the cold ground seeping into his bones. he’d touch himself softly, letting tiny moans escape, as he thought of her under him. she’d breathed him in, slightly biting his shoulder as he moved inside her, slow at first then faster and harder, running his hands over her sides, praying for it to never end.

it would always do so, though. it started when her moans turned into a song, a melody, and his joined with hers in perfect harmony. he would loose himself, the folds of her body caressing his as both of their torsos began to create friction and perspiration just the same way it was happening inside. she’d whisper his name many times before she completely lost herself and rode her orgasm out with tiny whimpers.

‘tate tate tate tate, oh god, tate, i love you.’

he would always come about a minute after, all of the pain inside him floating away into the clouds as his own body began to ripple in the waves of energy that surrounded him. each time he had to try not to float away, to stay grounded, and each time it never worked. for a few moments after each of his orgasms, he wasn’t tate, a psycho, a liar, a murderer. he wasn’t tate, the boy who had been upset when she said it hadn’t hurt after her first time. he was tate, a human boy hopelessly and infinitely in love.

-

each day it got a little worse. he would see her, smiling and laughing with her family and the baby, holding it and caressing it as she had done him once. summer turned into winter and winter turned into summer again and whenever he looked outside, he would remember when he had been in love with the girl who was able to walk among the humans.

he found solace in the woman who he’d wished to be his mother before. she used him and he used her, against the basement walls when they found time alone. he scrunched his hands through her bloody blonde curls, finding brain matter in them once he finished inside her, not feeling near the satisfaction he did with violet. 

she would slip her clothes on and walk away, then go cry as she wished for something else she would never be able to get. and he would just listen, a smile slowly spreading across his face because at least he was still able to sink away in the crawling, stinging pain of someone else.

-

maybe in a perfect world, he wouldn’t have fucked himself over. maybe in a perfect world, tate would still be human. he would have fought the urges to kill those bastards. he would have fought the ones who controlled him. he wouldn’t have made the baby.

maybe in a perfect world, tate would be in heaven, and violet would be with him too, but he was stuck in hell, all apologies on his lips.


End file.
